


Strings Around Our Fingers

by acommontater



Series: The Inbetweens [2]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Book 2: Earth, F/M, Gen, Post-Finale, Pre-Avatar: Legend of Korra
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-06
Updated: 2020-09-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:06:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26328355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acommontater/pseuds/acommontater
Summary: It takes a long time to build a life together, longer when the world is being reshaped around them.They learn to live without the war.[A series of connected one-shots centered around Katara and Aang through the years, beginning Post Season 2 through Pre LOK.]
Relationships: Aang & Katara (Avatar), Aang/Katara (Avatar), Katara & Sokka (Avatar)
Series: The Inbetweens [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046899
Comments: 14
Kudos: 78





	1. The Crossroads of Destiny

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Continuing in a vein of characters studies, a brief look into some Kataang.

As they fly away from Ba Sing Se, numb horror slowing seeping into each of them, Katara frantically bends the spirit water from her necklace.

There is some part of her mind that is screaming that she just watched her best friend, the boy she…. Aang die. That he must be dead, there’s no way anyone could survive _lightening_ being blasted through them, spine to heel like that, it feels like she left her stomach somewhere in those caves in her rush to fly across the room to catch him because he was _falling_ \- he is so still and small in her arms and….

If this works, she thinks hysterically as she bends the water to the stomach-turning burn on Aang’s back, I will never say a bad word about being forced to study in the healing huts again. I will go back to the North Pole and commit myself to the study completely if this saves his life, please, please, please-

Aang’s tattoos light up briefly and he groans. She sobs in relief as he meets her eyes for a moment before passing out again as she pulls him close. But breathing and alive.

“He’ll live.” She tells the others, wiping at her face with her free hand as she holds him upright with her other arm.

Toph’s tight grip on the saddle relaxes slightly, the terror on her face fading. In front of them, Sokka’s shoulders slump in relief. The King still seems to shellshocked to acknowledge much. For now, the even breath she can feel under her hand and against her neck is enough to steady her.

/

Aang opens his eyes to find himself sitting across a pai sho board from Monk Gyatso, who is considering his next move and stroking his mustache.

Aang blinks. He… can’t remember how he got here or what his last move was. It’s like he missed catching his glider, the odd swoop caught in his stomach. Like he’s supposed to be somewhere else.

“Something on your mind, Aang?”

He looks up at Gyatso’s calm face. The odd catch in his stomach turns into a swell in his chest like he’s going to cry.

“I…. I’m not sure. I forgot.”

“Well, maybe concentrating on the game at hand will help the wandering thought return.”

Aang shoots him a small smile and looks down at the board. He doesn’t recognize the shapes on any of the tiles. He frowns.

Something floats by the window. Aang looks up and blinks at the odd shape. It’s gone as quickly as it came, but it hadn’t been a bison. The nagging thought bubbles up again, and he refocuses on Gyatso.

“I’m not supposed to be here right now.”

“Is that so? Where are you supposed to be?”

Gyatso slides one of his tiles across the board. It has an image of a lightning bolt on it. Aang’s foot aches suddenly and he rubs it.

“I’m… not sure.”

It sounds like thunder in the distance, but the sky outside is blue and clear. Perfect for flying. But no gliders swoop by. Aang frowns again, a hand absently coming up to rub at his chest. It feels tight, like taking a breath is suddenly impossible.

To the side of the board, Gyatso pours some tea, handing a cup over to Aang. He lifts it to take a sip, then pauses. He can’t pinpoint what’s wrong at first.

Then he realizes that the tea, though it’s steaming and a pleasant clear green color, isn’t hot. It’s not cold either, it feels like… nothing. There’s no smell from the cup either and the steam rising out of it leaves no impression on Aang’s face. He sets the cup down suddenly.

He stares at the lightning bolt tile.

“Gyatso, I think-“ he says slowly, still staring at the tile. “I think I’m dead.”

Gyatso quirks an eyebrow at him, lowering his hands and cup of tea.

“What makes you think so?”

“Because…” Aang pauses, the horrible grief from before crystalizing and sitting like a stone in his chest. “you’re dead.”

Gyatso nods.

“Ah, I see your dilemma.” He smiles gently at Aang. “But you are not quite dead, no.”

“What am I then?”

Gyatso sets aside his tea and folds his hands.

“Somewhere in between.”

“What should I do?”

Gyatso hums, considering, sliding another tile along the board before tapping it lightly.

“It would seem to me that you must choose to make a move.”

Aang sighs, slumping.

“I don’t know what moves there even are to make.” He stares at the board again, then sits up. “In pai sho, you said that there are always at least two moves any piece can make.”

He reaches out to touch a tile near him. “You can move forward-“ He slides it along the line. “-or backwards.”

“But you cannot stay still.” Gyatso finishes.

Aang thinks for a moment.

“So, I can either move forward-“ He glances to his right, out the door. He can see some of the monks passing by in the courtyard, light laughter drifting through the air. He swallows the lump in his throat. “-or go back.”

He looks back down at the board to find that it’s turned into a miniature version of Ba Sing Se, like Toph’s sandcastle.

Toph. Sokka. Suki.

Katara.

He’d forgotten them. He jumps to his feet, then hesitates. Gyatso watches him with an enigmatic smile.

Aang looks at the small city, then back to the distant sounds and view of the temple.

The temple, with the monks safe and well and not _gone_. His people. He could stay.

“Whatever choice you make,” Gyatso says gently. “it is yours alone.”

“You’ll… You’ll still be here later, right?” Aang says, clenching his fists.

Gyatso nods and Aang takes the couple of steps needed to fling himself at the older monk for a hug. Gyatso hugs him back tightly. Aang doesn’t know how long they sit there, but there suddenly a feeling like someone has grabbed the back of his robe and is yanking him away. He tries to hold on tighter, but Gyatso slips away from his hands and…

…he wakes up in Katara’s arms, pain surging through his body. He’s aware enough to smile at her before she hugs him tightly. When he slips unconscious again, it’s a mere peaceful darkness.

/

It’s a full two weeks after Aang nearly dies when he does something beyond breathing.

Katara has taken to sleeping on a mat next to his bed, unable to bear being away, because what if, what if… she doesn’t like thinking about it.

Aang whimpers and shifts slightly. Katara nearly drops the plate of lunch she’d been eating in her haste to get to the other side of the room.

“Aang?”

He doesn’t respond. She places her hand on his forehead to find it fever-hot and damp with sweat. Her heart sinks. An infection of some sort must have set in.

His eyes fly open suddenly, looking around wildly. Katara grabs his shoulders to hold him down when he makes to move. His chest heaves. Aang finally focuses on her, but his gaze is fever-bright and glazed over. Between the soft fuzz of hair on his scalp and the flush of his skin, he looks unlike himself.

“Am I dead?” He rasps.

“No, no, but it was close. I brought you back with the spirit water.”

To her surprise, he goes limp, sudden tears streaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Why?” He whispers.

“What?” She doesn’t understand.

“Why did you have to bring me back?” His voice is thick through the tears. “I was _with them_ , we were _happy_ again, why couldn’t I _stay_ this time-“ His voice cracks and he seems unable to continue.

Katara is frozen for a moment, her own throat closing up in sympathy. She turns and quickly puts together a tea with plants she’d foraged on the islands they’d stopped at. She forces herself to focus on making the medicine and not the small, torturous sounds coming from the bed.

“Here, here drink this.” She says when she finally has a cup brewed. Aang weakly tries to twist away from the cup at his lip, but she braces his shoulders, tipping his head back over her arm. “There we go, this will help.”

Or at least knock him out again long enough for a healing session. The tears and feverish jitters slow until he’s asleep on the bed again. She lets out a long breath. Then she pulls out her healing water and slowly works to find where the infection had taken root.

It's only after she is finished and satisfied that she allows herself to sit down and cry. (In this too, she limits herself- she thinks that if she doesn’t force herself to stop after a few minutes that she might never stop.)

Later, after he’s woken and been caught up on everything that happened while he healed, Aang finds her on the deck of the ship. It’s late, only them and a few night watchmen awake. Katara stares up at the moon, watching the light play on the water. Aang’s footsteps are oddly heavy on the boat, gait uneven to compensate for his burned foot.

He leans on the rail next to her. They stand silently for a moment, taking in the ocean.

“Can you tell me what happened?” he asks quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I know that Azula hit me with lightening,” he clarifies. “but what did that do to me?”

“As far as I can tell, it… hit you in your back and exited out your heel. You might have some stiffness in that leg for a while. The burns are mostly on the surface, thankfully. There were a few days where you had an infection and ran a fever, but I managed to isolate it. It will take some time, but you should feel fine eventually.”

“An infection?” Aang frowns. “You didn’t mention that before.”

“The physical kind, not a spiritual kind, not to worry.” Katara reassures him. “You were feverish and babbling for a few days, but it cleared up quickly.”

Aang turns to face her.

“What did I say?”

“Hmm?”

“You said I was babbling, but that didn’t sound good.”

“Oh, it was, y’know, mostly nonsense. Fever talk.” Katara waves a hand airily.

“And the part of it that wasn’t nonsense?”

Katara falters. They know each other too well for her to lie.

“I know you didn’t mean any of it, and it’s fine, I know-“

“What did I say?”

“It’s nothing, really-“

“It upset you, so it’s not nothing.”

Katara sighs, knowing that he won’t let it go now.

“When you first woke up again, you had a high fever and didn’t know where you were. I don’t know if you recognized me or not. You-“ She hesitates, glancing at him. “you weren’t happy with me for bringing you back.”

“What? Why?”

“You said that you’d been with-“ She swallows hard, trying to clear the sudden lump in her throat. “-with the other airbenders. That you’d been happy with them and upset that I’d taken you away.”

Aang looks horrified for a moment then concerned. He looks like he’s about to pull her into a hug, but thinks better of it with a wince.

“Katara, I-“

She reaches out and squeezes his hand.

“It’s okay, Aang. I know.”

They sit quietly together and watch as the sun comes up over the waves.


	2. Like It Never Changed At All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the comet passes, after they help the world begin to settle, Katara returns home.

“Can we talk?” Katara asks.

“Sure?” Aang finishes packing up from dinner and comes to sit with her. Tomorrow they’ll be finishing up the last leg of their current journey in the Southern Earth Kingdom before meeting up with Sokka and Suki on Kyoshi Island.

Katara turns to face him, crossing her legs and taking a deep breath. Aang mirrors her pose with a mildly concerned expression. She reaches out and takes his hands in hers. He gives her hands a gentle squeeze and she gives him a shaky smile.

“I have to leave.” She says quietly.

“Okay?” Aang looks confused. “Do you need to borrow Appa?”

“No, it’s…” She sighs. “In Ba Sing Se, during the war, when you…. after the fight with Azula, when we were fleeing the city, I made a vow. I swore that if the spirit water worked, I’d go back and finish my training with the healers. And, it worked.”

“Oh.” Aang say softly. “But you’re a master already?”

“Of waterbending, but there’s so much left to learn about healing. I can do a lot with what I know, but it couldn’t hurt to learn more refined techniques. And with the waterbenders teaching in the South Pole as well now, I could go back and help them rebuild while I learn.” She squeezes his hands gently. “Plus, weren’t you and Toph talking about taking some architects and earthbenders and going to see about properly start rebuilding the Air Temples after the new year?”

Aang nods slowly.

“So, what are you saying?”

“That I think, I think we’re going to have to be apart for a while, I don’t know how long. And.” She takes a deep breath. “I know that we’ve talked about it before, and I know that I want to spend the rest of our lives together, but I don’t know how long we’ll be separated for and…”

“Katara.” Aang says her name gently and she jerks her gaze up from their hands to his face.

“I’m scared.” She admits.

“Why?”

“It’s…. a couple of things I guess.” She thinks for a moment. “We’re so strong together and we’ve been planning for the future for so long now, but what if being apart hurts that? Hurts us?”

“It might.” Aang shrugs a little. “But if it does, then we’ll learn from it. And think of all the cool stories we’ll have to tell each other afterwards!”

She manages a small smile at his enthusiasm. Then it drops.

“The other thing is.” Katara swallows hard. Focuses on the warmth of Aang’s hands in hers. “The last few times we were apart for more than a day or two, you nearly died, Aang.”

He squeezes her hands reassuringly.

“I’ll write to you every day if you want.” He says quietly, slowly leaning in until their foreheads rest against each other. “Every hour if it would make you feel better.”

Katara smiles at his earnestness.

“At least once a week?”

“As often as I can.”

She feels her smile wobble wildly and then can’t tell who initiates the hug, but they cling to each other tightly. Aang is shaking slightly, or maybe she’s shaking them both, or maybe both of them are trying not to cry.

Which is silly, she tries to convince herself. It’s not like anything is really ending, it’s not like they fell out of love, not like they will never see or hear from each other again. They ended a war for the sake of the world in order to find each other, it would be damned hard to separate them now.

(Maybe it would be easier, then. If they’d fought or grown apart or fallen for someone else, instead of just being dealt unfair timing in their lives.)

They fall asleep curled around each other, letting themselves have this for now.

/

Aang only stays for the morning on Kyoshi Island after they arrive, despite Suki’s wheedling for him to stay longer. He demurs with the argument that Toph and Zuko are waiting for him in Caldera City. (Katara ignores the glance Sokka shoots her.)

Suki and Sokka say their farewells to Aang and Appa after lunch, leaving Katara to see them off while they check to make sure the boat is ready.

When Katara turns back from waving her brother off, Aang surprises her with a kiss.

Out of habit she lets her eyes slide shut and her fingers curl into the folds of his robe. His hands are warm and gentle where he cups her jaw and shoulder.

For a moment she’s thrown back years, to the unsteady platform of a submarine in the middle of a war, the same kind of desperation echoing between them.

Then the moment breaks, and they stare at each other for a long moment, not moving away. Aang looks like he’s trying to memorize her (as if he could ever forget what she looked like).

“Come back to me safe, okay?” She manages, gripping the soft yellow and red cloth under her hands tightly.

“I promise. I’ll write as soon as we get to the palace.” He says.

Katara forces herself to step away, letting her hands drop. Aang springs up to sit between Appa’s horns. She gives Appa one more affectionate scratch.

“Keep him safe, please.” She whispers. Appa grumbles and lets out a soft whuff of air at her.

She chuckles and steps away to give them room.

“Appa, yip yip!” Aang calls.

Katara stands and watches until they vanish into the blue of the sky.

/

The boat ride home from Kyoshi Island is slow, but Katara doesn’t mind it. Being out on the water is calming. She does bend the water for a couple hours each afternoon to speed them along, but she and Sokka are content to let the boat keep it’s own pace through the waves. It’s a bizarre and luxurious feeling to be able to take their time as they travel. She is reminded of canoe trips from years ago as she stares at the back of her brother’s head where he stands at the helm.

(She’d looked away as he kissed Suki goodbye on the dock, pointless, aimless jealousy curling in her chest.)

The first night is easy, the calm roll of the water and sound of the waves against the boat letting her fall asleep quickly.

The second night is when it starts becoming difficult to sleep. She dreams of the cold greens of Ba Sing Se, the stone cold beneath her cheek as she lies on the floor and can’t move, she can’t move, she wasn’t fast enough and they are all in danger and she _can’t move_ and… Katara wakes with a gasp, heart racing. She hasn’t had these nightmares in a couple of years, why now?

(She knows why, the absence of familiar skin under her hand and well-loved heartbeat beside her makes her ache. This is a good thing, she tries to convince herself, it’s good to learn how to be apart from each other.)

/

She always comes back to healing. It’s easy for her, as natural as breathing. The cool glow and the feeling of skin knitting itself back together or illness leaving the body never ceases to be satisfying. It’s a clear tangible difference that she makes in people’s lives.

Gran-gran teaches her more about herbs and ways to stich a wound by hand. The best way to weave a bandage and pound a poultice. Yugoda is happy to see her again and to continue her training in healing. She and Kanna regale Katara with stories from their youth and she listens intently. (Privately, she thinks that her grandmother is glad to have another old lady to terrorize the village with.) There’s a kind of lightness in the air here that Katara has never known growing up. It’s heartening to see.

She helps teach the younger waterbenders when she isn’t training herself.

The first time she meets a young girl from the Southern Water Tribe- a fellow village about a days travel away- who shyly shows her the swirl of snowflakes in her tiny palm, Katara has to close her eyes for a moment to steady herself.

“Are you sad?” The little girl asks, sounding worried.

“No, no.” Katara tells her, smiling to reassure her. “I am very, very happy.”

/

She has trouble sleeping the first few months back.

It should feel safe and reassuring to be home, but some part of her is still sleeping with one eye open in case of an ambush. She still wakes in the middle of the night, panicking when she doesn’t hear the familiar breathing and snores of their little group before she remembers. The quiet takes readjusting to. Katara finds herself jumpy and on edge and knows Sokka feels the same.

The second night home he’d shown up in the middle of the night, exchanging a look with her when he found her still awake as well. Sokka had laid down on the floor near her instead of returning to his room. They both sleep that night.

She always keeps a full water skein on her, for the sake of utility despite the surrounding snow and ice, and just in case. She watches Sokka touch the pommel of the knife on his belt or the soft leather of his boomerang case when he startles.

Slowly, they start to learn how to live without the war.

/

Something that is unexpectedly nice is for the first time, she and Sokka have people their own ages in the South Pole. Katara befriends them quickly, falling in with some of the other waterbenders easily. Sokka takes longer, but she spots him with some of the other boys after training, several of them clearly entranced with whatever story her brother is telling them.

Some of the bolder boys approach her with different intentions.

She kisses other boys, lets them flirt with and flatter her, and it’s …nice. She genuinely even likes some of them and enjoys their brief courtings.

But that’s all it is. Nice.

Her work and learning from the healers makes her heart pound faster than any of the young suitors she sees. Katara doesn’t even truly realize it until she’s nearly back home after dinner with Mattoo. She turns to face him to say goodnight and finds him looking at her ruefully.

“You didn’t hear a word of what I said, did you.”

Katara flushes- she hadn’t even realized he’d been talking the last few minutes, mentally reviewing for a test she had the next day. Mattoo laughs softly at her expression, glancing down at the packed snow under their feet for a moment.

“It’s fine, I knew it was a longshot to even get you to look at me, so I’m glad you even agreed to see me a few times.” At her bewildered expression, he continues. “You’re beautiful, already a master bender, a hero in ending the war, and I’m just a regular guy.”

“Mattoo, no, I-“ She fishes for words and comes up empty. He’s handsome, an accomplished warrior and working under the tribe elders in studying tribal history. He’s a perfectly reasonable match.

“It’s fine! Really.” He puts up a hand to show no ill will. “Plus, it’s kind of hard to measure up when the Avatar is my competition, right?”

Katara squints at him.

“I didn’t realize that I was some kind of prize you were competing for.” She says coolly. Mattoo waves his hands hastily.

“No, no, that’s not- I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just common knowledge that he’s your ex you know?” She tries not flinch at the referral to Aang as ‘her ex’. “And you clearly still love him.”

She tries to come up with a rebuttal. Mattoo smiles gently.

“I’m sorry.” She says eventually, sighing.

“Friends?” Mattoo offers.

“Friends.” Katara smiles weakly at him.

He lifts a hand to cup her cheek, leaning in and kissing her on the cheek before he steps back.

“I hope you get him back.” He says. “He doesn’t know what he’s losing out on.”

Katara laughs a little wetly as they wave goodbye.

That’s the problem, she thinks as she watches Mattoo disappear around the side of a house, he _does_ know. And so do I.

/

She flings herself into her healer training.

She works through the more delicate intricacies of healing bones, muscles, veins, energy, illnesses, and more. How to lower the temperature of a body without freezing them solid to help with fevers or serious wounds. How to puzzle out where pain or sickness originates.

Some days she can’t help but think of how many could she have saved with this knowledge during their travels, both in the war and after. How maybe Sokka wouldn’t have the slight limp left over from his snapped leg on the air ship. How maybe Aang and Zuko wouldn’t have the days of dull, burning pain form their matching scars if she’d just been better, or faster, or….

Katara forgives her younger self for lacking knowledge she had no way of knowing. It’s not fair to herself.

Instead she focuses on the healing she knows now, how many more she can help and teach now that she does know. Channels her fury and power into honing her skills until she cannot be matched.

(Sokka leaves a little over half a year after they come home. He’s been elected to serve as an ambassador, traveling with Bato as a junior ambassador to the other nations. Katara is glad for him, had seen how restless he’d become staying still after so long traveling around the world. But she misses him. Misses all of their group.)

/

It’s a little over two years before she and Aang see each other again. The letters are dated regularly, but arrive sporadically and are often brief, between his travels between the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation and her own business with studies and helping train younger waterbenders. She can tell when he’s stayed in one place for more than a few days, because she always gets a letter several pages long to show that he’s had time to sit and write to catch her up.

The Fire Nation is hosting a memorial and celebration of it being five years since the end of the war at the end of the summer. The Fire Lord writes to her personally to invite Master Katara to join them at the palace. (Your room will be ready a week in advance, Mai writes in the note tucked into the invitation, he misses you all.)

Katara sails up a week before the celebration with the delegation from the Southern Water Tribe. The Great Gates of Azulon have long since been torn down and they sail easily into the bay of the royal city.

“A bit different from our first visit here, huh?” Hakoda says next to her on the deck as they watch the beach come closer.

“Much better trip this time.” Katara agrees. She spots the group of people waiting for them.

Sokka waves wildly, the blue and green of his and Suki’s clothing standing out next to Zuko and Mai’s red robes. She waves back, trying to stay slightly more dignified even as her wide grin matches her brother’s. It’s been nearly a year since they’ve seen each other now. He pushes his way to the front of the group as soon as the boat is anchored, and gangplank is lowered and Katara just barely stops herself from running down to tackle him in a hug. Sokka laughs and spins her around before setting her down and turning to accept a hug from Hakoda.

Katara steps aside to let the rest of the crew disembark and looks over the greeting committee from the Fire Nation. She and Suki exchange waves, but she can tell by the warriors stance as she scans the area every few seconds that she is still on duty as Zuko’s guard. There’s a handful of ministers, who are probably jockeying for Zuko’s approval or are curious about the Water Tribe delegation, and various palace workers to help load their things to carts going back to their rooms in the designated building where they’ll be staying (with the exception of Katara and Sokka, who have semi-permanent guest rooms in the palace).

Aang stands back a little from the formal Fire Nation greeting committee, a bright spot of yellow against the scarlet of the royal representatives. He doesn’t seem to have spotted her yet as they slowly make their way down the dock to shore.

There’s a part of her that registers that he’s even taller than she remembers, that the cut of his cheekbones and body under his robes brings heat to her face, how dignified and formal he looks standing behind Zuko as the Fire Lord greets their party.

The larger part of her merely thinks of how _tired_ he looks.

There are telltale faint shadows under his eyes, and he leans subtly on his glider staff as he watches the goings on. If she were closer she thinks that she’d be able to see faint stubble all over his head from him forgetting to shave.

She hugs Zuko and then Mai in greeting, happy to see her friends. (Zuko whispers that he’s made sure to secure their little family a private dinner later that evening, instead of the grand feast that would come later in the week.)

“Sifu Katara.” Aang quirks a smile at her in greeting and the familiar expression on his face makes the strange tension in her throat vanish. She snorts.

“Pupil Aang.” They exchange comically overly formal bows.

Then Katara shakes her head and pulls him into a hug. He returns it just as tightly.

“I missed you.” She breathes. She can smell the incense that always clings to his robes, a slightly smokier, earthier Fire Nation scent instead of the one she’s used to.

“So much.” He says thickly. The sea breeze whirls wildly around their ankles for a moment.

The hug ends more quickly than either of them would like, but Sokka clears his throat pointedly and grumbles about being out in public.

Katara can see Mai biting back a laugh when not even a minute later Sokka spots his girlfriend and lets out a delighted cry of ‘Suki!’ as they reach the royal guard.

/

The week leading up to the festivities is a whirlwind of preparations.

Toph arrives the day after Sokka and Katara with the Earth Kingdom representatives. They all manage to slip away for an afternoon to catch up.

They have tea and snacks out by Zuko’s private pond, sprawled out on the ground as they talk.

Sokka tells them about his travels as an ambassador, only half of which sound truly believable. Toph tells them about her students at the metalbending academy, pride in her tone despite all the names she calls them. Suki and Ty Lee catch them up on the happenings on both Caldera and Kyoshi islands. Katara tells them about her studies and helping train new waterbenders. Zuko and Aang make matching grimaces about politics and dealing with dissatisfied nobles and representatives.

It’s a pleasant break from the formalities of the Fire Nation.

/

The first night of the festival is started with a feast, followed by a fireworks display.

After the meal, Katara changes into something less formal. She loves her furs and traditional clothes, but they are built for the tundra not a tropical island. It’s a relief to change into the light silks of the Fire Nation. (Custom blues and greens provided by the royal family for whenever she stayed over.)

A light rap sounds on the door to her room.

“Come in!” She calls, as she finishes redoing her braid.

Aang pokes his head in. Katara smiles at him in the mirror.

“Hi! Give me one moment.”

He takes a seat on the bed behind her and she puts her last piece of jewelry on. Aang watches her, face soft as he follows the motion of her hands pinning wayward hairs into place.

“Ready for some fireworks?” She asks cheerfully, standing and slipping on her shoes.

Aang stands with her, then holds out a hand.

“Come watch them with me? I know a spot with a great view.”

Katara looks at his outstretched hand. He looks faintly nervous when it takes her a moment to reach out. She takes his hand.

“I’d love to.”

He gently pulls her hand to rest in the crook of his elbow as they walk down the halls of the palace to one of the large courtyards in front of the main building. Zuko and Mai are seated on one side and they wave to their friends. Aang wraps his arm around her waist in a familiar motion and she loops her arms around his shoulders as he snaps open his glider and carries them up to the rooftop. He leads her a few steps down to a broad corner looking out over the whole city. She can even see the edge of the bay from here, the glow of the sunset refracting off the water and making the buildings below them glow.

“It’s _beautiful_.” Katara says.

They sit down on the sturdy beam running through the middle of the roof. Katara unthinkingly leans into his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Aang goes stiff for a moment until she pointedly doesn’t move. He relaxes, sliding an arm around her back and letting his own head drop to rest on top of hers. Katara lets her eyes slide closed for a moment. Lets herself enjoy the sound of a familiar and beloved heartbeat, the slow rise and fall of their breathing together, the soft cloth under her cheek. It feels almost like they were never apart.

“Can we never do that again?” She says with a sigh.

“Do what?”

“Not see each other for so long. It sucked.”

Aang laughs softly.

“I don’t think I ever want to be away from you again.” He reaches out and tangles the fingers of their free hands together. “Not for the rest of our lives.”

Katara goes still this time before lifting her head to look at him. He looks slightly bemused by the expression on her face.

“Aang, are you…”

The implications of his words seem to catch up to him and he goes red.

“Oh! No! Or not _no_ no, but not _yet_ … not to be presumptuous! Someday! If you want that! Or-“

Katara takes mercy on him and lets out a snorting laugh at his sputtering. She squeezes their entwined hands.

“For the record, yes to someday, but no not right now. We can start with boyfriend and girlfriend for now?”

Aang smiles a little goofily at her.

“That sounds amazing.”

She leans in and kisses him as the first fireworks go off.

They sit together and watch the show, matching smiles illuminated by the sparkling colors.

They have time, Katara thinks, so much more time than they’d ever thought they would get. Plenty and then some for everything else in the future.


	3. A Lack of Feathers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He returns to see the Sun Warriors years later.

He returns to the Sun Warriors, several years after the war is over.

Aang can feel a pair of eyes following him as he walks through the ancient buildings, so he takes his time. The footsteps are light and small behind him. Finally, he turns down a narrow alley and there’s a soft thud on the ground behind him.

“Stop where you are, trespasser.”

He turns around to find a young warrior pointing a bow and arrow at him. He smiles and leans easily on his staff.

“Hello! Can you please take me to see the chief?” The warrior looks taken aback as his lack of surprise. “I’m an old student of the masters.” Aang adds and understanding finally crosses the face of the Sun Warrior.

Aang is led through a maze of buildings and foliage until they come to a clearing. His guide turn and lets out a shrill whistle that echoes through the trees. Aang bows in thanks and the young Sun Warrior vanishes.

“Avatar, I did not expect to see you here again.”

“Chief Pakal.” Aang turns to find the leader of the Sun Warriors and several familiar faces in the clearing. He bows respectfully in greeting. “Thank you again for helping Zuko and I to learn from the masters. It was invaluable in ending the war and beginning to restore balance to the world.”

The Chief nods in acknowledgement, looking at him observantly.

“Thanks is not what you are truly here for this time though.”

Aang sighs.

“No.”

Chief Pakal gestures for Aang to follow him.

“Perhaps this conversation will best be had in a more comfortable location.”

One of the other Sun Warriors steps forward and holds out a blindfold. Aang ducks his head and allows it to be tied over his eyes before being led through the jungle.

/

They sit in the Chief’s home.

“So, what is it you came here seeking this time?” Pakal sits comfortably on the floor facing him, handing him a tiny cup of a bitter, spicy drink.

“What do you know of the war with the Fire Nation?” Aang asks carefully, cradling the warm cup in his hands.

“Enough to keep our people safe, in regard to both the Fire Nation and the Earth Kingdom.”

“And the start of the war?”

A dark look passes over the Pakal’s face.

“That the Fire Nation used one of the holiest days of our people to pollute it with needless violence and greed.” He looks Aang in the eye. “That they used a sacred power against our brothers and sisters in the Air Temples.”

“Oh.” Aang’s throat is tight.

“My grandfather saw the smoke from the Western Temple as a boy.” The Chief says sadly. “He used to be a messenger to the few nuns who were permitted to know of us in order to trade.”

“Did any of them-“

“Come here? No, not in the way you are hoping.” The Chief sighs. “My grandfather remembered a few of the elderly nuns showing up, but they were badly injured and died soon after. They were given burials on the mountaintops nearby. It was then that we truly separated from the outside world. We were already wary of the few we’d had cause to interact with, but knowing that our own misguided cousins could do such a thing to a peaceful people…”

“What would they do against a tribe of true firebending warriors. And then they proved you right by hunting the dragons.” Aang stares at the floor. The Chief nods. “Do you know if any of the airbenders could have hidden away near here?”

“I’ve never heard of such a place, but airbenders were never ones to hide away.” Chief Pakal says gently. “Fire is life and light, but air is free to travel where it likes. Being entrapped only makes it stale and cloying. Your people were the same.”

Aang closes his eyes for a moment. He’d known this, and yet. And yet.

“Thank you for your time anyway.” He stands and bows politely. “I also came to tell you that the Fire Lord and I have ensured that this land is preserved as sacred and private. If you have any issues, you have the protection and resources of the Fire Nation as well as a personal vow of protection from the Avatar, should you ever need it.”

The Chief returns his bow.

“Thank you for telling me, Avatar Aang.”

They exchange smiles- Chief Pakal’s broad and friendly, Aang’s slightly dimmed.

He is blindfolded again and escorted out in a dizzying path back through the jungle until he can feel that they’ve arrived back in the ruins. Aang returns the blindfold to his escort and they return his glider. They exchange bows and then the Sun Warriors disappear back into the foliage.

Aang stands alone among the ruins.

It’s a feeling he’s getting used to.


	4. Find Meaning and Seize It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work, even good work, is tiring.
> 
> "Aang chose to find meaning in his suffering and, eventually, found peace."

It’s been exhausting since they ended the war- mostly the good kind of exhaustion, the ache of hard work well done, but still tiring.

Every few years there will be a summer where Katara watches Aang become incredibly antsy, his nervous energy spiking. This is inevitably followed by him vanishing for a month or two in the autumn. He never exactly says where he goes, but he travels, regularly sending letters back to her with vague ideas about where he is so she doesn’t worry too much.

They begin founding a city to be a home for all peoples. Katara and Aang, with Toph’s help, reorder an island to be a home for their family and the students Aang has gathered over the years. Zuko lends aide to restore the Air Temples (Aang had cried when Zuko had handed him the decree, asking if there were any specifics that needed to be added.). Before they know it, fifteen years have passed since the end of the war.

It’s a pleasantly cool fall evening when Katara hikes up to the highest point of the island to find Aang meditating. He’s facing out to the sea, the breeze off the waves ruffling his robes, a serene expression on his face lit by the deep orange and yellows of the sunset. Katara sits down nearby, half watching her husband, half playing with a small ball of bending water as she waits for him to finish.

It takes a few minutes before she realizes that his breathing has changed. She looks over to find him sitting with tears dripping down his face. When she was younger, she would have leaped to her feet immediately to demand what was wrong. Now, she waits, knowing that she’ll find out eventually. Aang’s expression hasn’t changed with the tears- still a small, serene smile. The tears don’t seem to be particularly sorrowful or angry, they seem to just be from an overflow of emotion.

The sun sinks another few notches in the sky before he shifts with a sigh. Aang stretches his arms over his head before rising and bowing towards the setting sun. He turns and notices Katara, a bright smile taking over his face as he spots her.

He takes a few long strides over to greet her with a kiss. Katara takes advantage of the moment of affection to tuck herself into his long robes. He laughs and drags his long cape around them both.

“I thought you could handle the cold, Miss Southern Water Tribe.”

“Like you’re upset at an excuse for cuddling.”

She lifts a hand up, gently touching his damp cheek.

“Are you okay?”

He hums in acknowledgement, looking out somewhere past her.

“Yes, yes I think I really am.”

Aang seems more settled than… well, ever. He absently bends up a bench for them to sit on. Katara settles in next to him, sliding an arm around his waist as they watch the sunset.

“Remember how I used to go travel in the fall sometimes?” She nods. “I was- I had this hope that there were really other airbenders out there. Like the Sun Warriors. That they’d just gone into hiding somewhere after escaping and maybe it would take a while for the news about the war being over to reach them. And that after they knew it was over and I was here, they’d come find me.” Katara has suspected as much and waits. “but it’s been more than fifteen years now. The whole world has been changing and rebuilding. If there were any others out there, they would have found me by now.”

Katara reaches over and takes his hand. Aang smiles softly at her.

“I spent the day meditating and have started to make peace with it. The grief and loss will always be there, of course, but so will the love of my people. I can ensure that they will never be forgotten and pass on what I can.” He lets out a breath. “As long as I am breathing, my people live. Whatever I do, it will be enough.”

Katara pulls him into a hug. He returns it tightly. There’s a looseness to him that she’s never seen before. They eventually pull apart, exchanging small smiles.

“Well,” she says, casually. “if we’re going to be thinking about the future, I think you should take a look at my chi paths.”

He gives her a confused look.

“O…kay?” He closes his eyes and focuses. She holds her breath and waits. He frowns, one hand absently drifting towards her body. “What…. There’s something tied up in your paths, like-“

His eyes fly open to stare at her gleeful expression.

“Really?”

She nods, releasing her wide smile. Aang whoops, scooping her up in his arms and spinning them off the ground in his enthusiasm. Katara laughs as they touch down again, Aang setting her back down on the bench as he falls to his knees in front of her. He stares at her middle with a soft awe on his face.

“I’ve been suspicious for a few weeks now, but the healers confirmed it for me today.” She says, tracing a hand down the smooth arrow on her husband’s head to cup the back of his neck.

He buries his face in her stomach, shoulder shaking. Then he lifts his head, fresh, happy tears on his face now.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”


End file.
